


Cast Adrift

by deisegal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, Porn Without Plot, Set vaguely in ADWD timeline, references to Melisandre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:51:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deisegal/pseuds/deisegal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asha has cabin fever and has an unexpected encounter when she goes for a walkabout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cast Adrift

As the snowfall got ever heavier and Stannis’ army floundered, Asha found that her captors seemed less concerned with keeping track of her and she was allowed come and go as she pleased. Not that there was anywhere to go and very little pleased her. Most of their days were spent huddling in their tents that dotted around the abandoned village, or else pushing slivers of horse meat around a plate in the long building that served as the dining hall. 

Durng one particularly long afternoon Asha decided she couldn't take a moment longer of the stifling atmosphere in the tent and she announced she was going for a walk. 

Aly shrugged and rolled back over to continue her nap, muttering,

“Suit yourself kraken. Don't expect me to come dig you out if you fall." 

Asha smiled wryly to herself, noting her value as “the King’s prize” had plummeted considerably.

After just a few steps she realised she was making a terrible mistake but she persisted onwards stubbornly for what felt like an hour but what could have been minutes. Eventually she was pressed up against a stone wall, rubbing chunks of snow from her face, and blinking hard as the flakes stung at her eyes. She dared not go back. She clung to the wall and inched around until she reached the door. She had a feeling she knew who was behind this door but she currently did not care. She pushed against the door but it didn’t budge. She wasn’t sure if this was because it was barred from the inside or it had frozen with the cold. She gave it one almighty push with her shoulder and it gave way to her. She staggered through but caught herself before she fell and quickly recovered to close the door behind her. She caught her breath and then took in her surroundings. The room was small and dimly lit but for a pathetic fire in the hearth. Fuel was scarce, even in a King’s quarters.

For they were indeed Stannis’ quarters. He had claimed one of the only intact stone buildings in the village as his own. He was slumped languidly in a chair in front of a fire that had been lit in a small, but ornate brazier. He was more relaxed looking than she had ever seen him since her capture. He didn't even register her presence, though he must have heard the racket she made getting through the door.

"Your Grace, I'm sorry for intruding on you, but the weather... I didn't dare go back."

He waved a hand at her.

She decided to be bold. This was the first time she'd been alone with him since Deepwood Motte. She unwrapped her cloak and placed it on a small stool brazier to dry, then she pulled up a chair a little too close to him, then when she noticed him shift in his own chair, she pulled it back. Maybe not quite so bold.

"Do sit down. Make yourself comfortable."

She decided to play dumb, "Thank you, Your Grace. It's so good to be in from the cold."

"And why are you out in it in the first place?" 

"Cabin fever."

That actually made him laugh and she felt perversely proud of herself.

"And now you're stranded?"

"Cast completely adrift Your Grace." She licked her lips and glanced away, not daring to hold his dark blue gaze for more than a moment. She was surprised to feel like that. 

They sat in almost companionable silence for a few minutes before Asha spoke again.

"Where are your guards?"

"I sent them away. I wouldn't leave a dog out in that, not that we have any...."

"We could do with some. Might make a change from horsemeat."

He leaned forward to put a small piece of wood on the brazier. She could make out the shape of his skull and the bones of his neck as he stretched. He settled back in the chair, rubbing the wood dust from his hands.

"Dogs don't taste very nice." He glanced up at her again, possibly to take in her reaction. But she'd heard the stories about Storm's End. Even while the Ironborn detested Stannis Baratheon, they admired and respected him at the same time. He was apparently cut from a very similar cloth.

"But you make do."

"You make do."

"Even those boots will start looking appetising soon."

Afterwards she'd wonder what her made her do it, why she had reached down and tenderly stroked along the length of the leather.

He was eyeing her in utter confusion when her hand came to rest on his knee.

"I'm sure if they were seasoned properly they'd be edible."

He barely cracked a smile and made to remove her hand from his knee but she grabbed hold of his hand instead.

"I've found keeping yourself busy can take your mind off the hunger." She began stroking his hand.

"I'm not hungry."

"I am."

"No matter, I don't need you to sit here holding my hand."

"And here was me thinking you'd lost your royal hand holder."

"I beg your pardon."

"Nothing." She snapped her hand back and cursed herself silently. She’d been having some idle sport up to that point and now she’d ruined it.

"What did you mean by that?"

"I meant nothing!”

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."

"People say things they don't mean all the time!"

"I don't!"

Asha could feel herself flushing hard. The heat of the room suddenly felt overwhelming. She'd thought she would enjoy playing the King but she felt nothing but discomfort now. She stood up and turned for the door, but he stood up too and grabbed her from behind before she could pick up her cloak.

He dragged her around to face the brazier again and muttered into her ear.

"You think I don't know what people say about me? About her? Well they can have their tawdry fantasies; only she and I know the truth."

Asha was stunned by the sudden intensity but she wasn't afraid even as he pulled her tighter. In fact she almost appreciated the closeness, the feel of his hot breath against her ear.

"What is the truth then?" 

Asha had never even met the Red Woman from Assai, but the talk in camp was certainly lurid. Ser Justin spoke in awed tones of her but Asha wasn't quite sure if it was because he wanted to worship her, fuck her, or both. She had wondered about Stannis' arrangement with her. The idea that he might be fucking her himself seemed both ludicrous and fascinating. She suddenly realised he was pressing harder into her hips. The feeling was excruciatingly good, after all this time.

"It's our truth. It's not for anybody else. You cannot even begin to imagine what she has shown me, what she has done for me. You could never understand."

Asha had no idea where this had all come from, when minutes before he'd grimaced at the idea of her even sitting close to him. Then she shifted a bit and realised there was something pressing into her back. 

She wriggled to get out of his grip and turned to face him. His face was softer somehow, even though the shape of his skull was so visible under his skin, and his eyes were glassy. 

She reached up and stroked his heavily bristled jaw, then placed a gentle kiss on the same side. He didn't flinch so she grabbed at the stiff collar of his doublet with both hands and pulled his lips close to hers.

"I don't really care what your truth is, or her truth, or about this God or that, but my truth is that I haven't been fucked in weeks and I am aching right now. I'm cold. And I'm hungry. And I'm tired. And I'm aching." 

She had repeated herself for further emphasis and held his gaze, daring him to push her away.

To her surprise it was he who closed the distance between their lips but she clutched harder at his collar all the same in case he changed his mind. The kiss was almost furious and she had to pull him closer to take some control but he broke it as quickly as he started it.

"I have a wife."

"Ah. Another of your truths. Well I don't see her here."

"That makes her no less real." 

He closed his eyes and went to pull away from her but she wasn't about to let go so easily. Everything she said to him was the truth. She had been aching from the cold and the hunger and tiredness. The rest she could have happily done without before, when just staying alive seemed so important. But here and now with him, when it was right in her grasp, she felt she would crumble if she were denied. She would get on her knees for him if he asked. But he would never ask. Her mind was still reeling from the feel of his hands digging into her hips, and the desperation of the kiss. 

And all the while he was moving backwards across the room, but he ended up stumbling against the square wooden table in the centre.

He braced himself against the table and placed his hands on either side. Asha felt all the blood rush between her legs. She moved so quickly to him that he didn't have a chance to react when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again. He didn't react when she released one hand and ran it down the front of his doublet. He didn't react when she released her other hand and used both to undo the ties. She knew his bed was upstairs but she didn't dare allow him the chance to reject her in the time it would take to lead him there. As it was, he was actually returning the kiss with some fervour, belying the stillness of his limbs. It was sloppy yet incredibly satisfying, with his tongue matching hers stroke for stroke 

She pushed the doublet off his shoulders but had to break the kiss to get his shirt over his head. She could have accomplished all she wished without removing a single item of clothing, but somehow it seemed important that he be stripped bare in every way. She wasn’t sure if she would even get his laces undone though, so she stopped and took in his bare torso in case he called halt to proceedings. At least she’d have something to think about later on when she was lying in her tent. Qarl had been the last man she lay with and he didn’t even have hair on his chest. Stannis had a thick coating of dark hair that trailed off down his stomach. He was painfully thin but still very well built. He had a warrior's body even after all this. She pressed her palm on his stomach and let her fingers drift downwards. She knew he was hard. He’d been hard pressed up against her. But if he let her touch it, it would be a miracle.

But moments later Asha gave thanks to the Red God, the Drowned God and all the Gods Old and New, as Stannis Baratheon allowed her to close her hand around his cock. Ridiculously she thought about Victarion, of how she could taunt him with her own war stories, of how she had felled the mighty Baratheon stag. Maybe it wasn’t felling him in the conventional sense but she had to use any weapon at her disposal.....

It was an idle thought; she knew all their chances of making it out of this alive were slim and she'd never even see Victarion again, let alone get a chance to taunt him. Stannis pushed his hips forward and she pulled her hand out and picked at his laces, slipping to her knees as she pulled the breeches down. She gave serious thought to trying to get the breeches off completely but his boots were an obstacle she did not wish to navigate. The more effort that was required to strip him, the more opportunities he had to stop her. It would have been a hollow victory anyway because she truly ached for that feeling of skin on skin, and she knew she'd not get that from him. As it was, the fabric of his breeches was bunched around the top of his boots. She clutched at the back of his thighs, then without a further thought took him in her mouth. Even the greatest of men could be laid low for a time by a woman on her knees. But he bucked his hips wildly and hissed down at her. 

“No!”

Even with her lips around his cock her mouth quirked up. She let it slip from her mouth then glanced up at him.

“No?”

“Stand up.”

She obeyed. 

“Turn around. Face the table.”

He was already red-faced and slightly agitated looking.

She turned and leaned over the table. Surely he wouldn’t? Stannis seemed like the “three pumps and done, with the candles blown out” type, and moments ago she’d have happily taken even that from him. But now he was tugging at her laces and pulling down her own breeches and it was apparent he had something else entirely planned for her. He pushed her forward and she braced herself on the table. Her breeches were around her knees and one of his big hands was at her hip while the other found its way between her legs. She gritted her teeth expecting him to start mashing his fingers around clumsily, but was pleasantly surprised to find him quite deft. She was already wet but the tender stroking and rubbing almost brought her to gasping point in minutes. She knew she had needed this badly anyway, but the whole situation was so outlandish it seemed to have set all her nerves on fire. He stopped for a moment, and sucked on her neck, then hovered his finger tantalisingly until she groaned and pushed up against it. She felt him smile into her neck. How he was enjoying making her squirm. Could this even be the same man who had earlier looked at her hand on his knee as though it were an errant jellyfish? When he touched her again, she came almost immediately, her entire body convulsing in a way she’d have been embarrassed about if she had the sense to at that time. She couldn’t remember ever coming so hard, not even with Qarl, who was easily the best lover she'd ever had.

But she was sure it was because she’d gone so long without it, and the circumstances were so unusual, so unexpected. It certainly wasn’t because Stannis Baratheon had magic in his fingertips. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a few breaths to compose herself. She wasn’t quite sated though. And the movements behind her told her he wasn’t finished either. 

He pushed her even further forward so her head was almost on the table. She rested her forehead on her folded arms and enjoyed the stretch as he pulled her hips back and ran a hand lightly over her backside. She could feel him re-adjusting and moving one way or the other and she had to admit a certain amount of admiration for his efforts. He could have just flung her on the table - or even the floor - and entered her, but he was taking his time and planning his next move carefully. It took two false starts before he finally entered her and she grinned at the loud exhalation of breath from him when he was settled inside her. She tightened around him and he groaned even louder. She decided to let him do the work, to let him think he was controlling the situation. She dug her nails into the wood of the table as he began thrusting in and out. There was no noise for him save for a few stifled groans. And when she squeezed around him again he came silently. But she felt him shudder before he slumped on her. Even in his weakened state he was too heavy but it felt somehow comforting to have him on top of her.

She reached back and stroked the side of his face. That little gesture of tenderness brought him back to his senses and he immediately snapped back. He slipped out of her and she turned around to face him, but he was already pulling up his breeches and re-tying the laces. She stopped him with a hand around his wrist.

“We did nothing wrong.”

He stared at her and ground his teeth and this time she stood firm. They had done nothing wrong. Vows meant nothing when you were facing death. 

"I won't feel bad for taking something good out of this." She pulled up her own breeches while trying to hold his gaze.

He shook his head and bent to pick up his doublet and shirt. Because he'd fucked her from behind she hadn’t observed how each and every one of his ribs was visible from the side. She felt slightly uncomfortable watching him pull the shirt back on over his head but went to him as he put on his doublet. She was surprised that he didn't resist as she began to fasten the ties. And even more surprised when he spoke, his voice low and halting.

"I've been drifting too you know."

She bit her lip. This didn’t sound good.

"For the longest time now. I don't even sleep anymore because of the things I see when I close my eyes. Food tastes like ash. Sometimes I wonder if I'm even alive."

"You felt alive when you were inside me." She suddenly realised she had no moon tea. She hoped he wasn't quite _that_ alive.

"Is that what men usually do then, fuck to feel alive?"

The word sounded particularly obscene coming from his mouth.

"I'm sure it's part of it alright." Asha knew she was bolder than most women when it came to matters of the flesh. But she didn't doubt this kind of encounter was completely foreign to Stannis Baratheon. Whatever the truth between him and the Red Woman she was sure it was not grounded in pure lust or abandon. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know _what_ it was grounded in. The mystery seemed all the more alluring.

She fastened the last tie of his doublet and lightly patted his chest, "It's meant to be enjoyable as well though. And you're not meant to hate yourself afterwards. Not usually."

"I didn't say I hated myself."

"Well the look on your face says otherwise."

"You don't know me."

"No I don't.” 

It was just something to say, though she was learning that Stannis didn’t look favourably on stray words and platitudes so she decided to say no more. She was sure there was nothing positive he would take from this situation. What was done was done and they would have to live with it, for however long that was.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and looked behind him and out the window. It was snowing even heavier than before. She folded her arms tightly across her chest and contemplated the walk back to the tent. He turned around and looked out the window himself then back to her, a half smile ghosting his lips.

"Wouldn't send my worst enemy out in that."

"And what about me, Your Grace?"

He gestured to the chair she'd been sitting on, "I'm afraid cabin fever might strike again."

Asha bit her lip again but this time it was to suppress a smile. She sat down by the fire again and watched him from the corner of her eye as he sat down too, suddenly acutely aware of the crack of his bones as he moved. She pulled up her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. He leaned forward to pick up another piece of wood then glanced up at her.

“We have very little wood left. Can you do without for a while?”

“I’m warm enough for now, Your Grace.”

In the dim light she could still make out the faintest flush cross his cheeks before he turned to stare back at the fire. She wanted to reach out and touch him again, but for now she was happy enough to drift along with him for a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Drawing for this fic [here](http://justinmassey.tumblr.com/post/91191230022/stannis-and-asha-in-my-fic-cast-adrift)


End file.
